


Wherever I May Roam

by sarasaurusrex



Series: Supernatural Kink Bingo [3]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angel Sex, Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural), Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Castiel Does Not Understand (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Caught in the Act, Condoms, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, First Time, Flavored Lube, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Happy Ending, Heartache, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Rejection, Relationship(s), Sam Winchester is So Done, Sassy Castiel (Supernatural), idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 03:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarasaurusrex/pseuds/sarasaurusrex
Summary: Sam and Dean get sent to another TV Land that's slightly different than the last. In this version, Jensen and Misha are dating. Can Dean keep it together long enough to be rescued and avoid ruining his precariously platonic relationship with Castiel? (cue Sam laughing in the background)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [SPN Kink Bingo](https://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, Square: Roleplay. It was intended to be a short fic, but I got a little carried away :)  
Beta-ed by [Evolving_Diamond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evolving_diamond/pseuds/evolving_diamond)

"What are we going to do?"

"Does it look like I know?"

"Dean, this isn't possible. We can't be here!"

"Don't you think I know that, Sam? We just need to keep our heads down and…"

"And what? Because we've faced demons, monsters, _ gods _, but...this?"

"Here's your latte, Mr. Padalecki."

Sam and Dean turned abruptly to see a young woman wearing a lanyard and holding out a coffee.

Sam swallowed, "Uh, t...thanks."

Dean stared at him as he took the coffee. They were in a cavernous studio set, surrounded by people wearing all black, talking over headsets and shutting down equipment. 

As soon as the girl left, Dean mouthed, "Let's go."

Sam and Dean wove through cameras, crew, and wardrobe racks, avoiding the eyes of everyone and trying to look nonchalant. It was like walking through a maze. But before they could find the exit, Sam saw someone trying to wave them over. He ushered Dean to a random door and pushed through it.

They stepped into blinding sunlight. They were on a wide sidestreet between two nondescript, tan buildings. All of the action seemed to be taking place at the end of the street. Squinting and panting, they took a second to catch their breath.

"Thank god," Dean muttered, swiping Sam's latte out of his hand. "Let's get out of here. We'll go find your mansion and…"

"Dean, this isn't the same universe," Sam told him urgently, "I mean, in the last one Cas...or fake Cas... died. The director died. I'm pretty sure this TV show wouldn't still be going on."

Dean gave him a skeptical look over the latte. "It's Hollywood, Sam. They started filming the next day, trust me."

"Okay, but…" Sam did a double take. Someone was walking down the street towards them, beaming. "See?" Sam whispered, directing Dean's gaze in warning.

Castiel, or the actor who played Castiel, was striding towards them, smiling brightly.

"Hey, guys!" He called.

Sam and Dean put on awkward, forced smiles.

"What do we do?" Dean gritted his teeth.

"Just go with it," Sam whispered back.

But as 'Castiel' approached, it became blindingly obvious that this was not the universe they once visited several years ago. In the previous universe, fake Castiel definitely didn't greet Dean by putting his arm around him and kissing him.

Dean froze in shock, inhaling the familiar yet completely foreign smell of not-Cas.

Sam's eyes widened. 

When 'Castiel' was finished kissing Dean, which from Sam's perspective was an unnecessarily long and passionate kiss, he slipped his hand into Dean's and smiled wryly at Sam.

"Hey Jared. How was…uh," he glanced between them, his smile fading fast, "What's wrong?"

Dean looked so bewildered that Sam almost smiled, but he was still in a state of shock and his facial muscles weren't cooperating. "Uh… nothing! Long day." He said honestly, stealing an anxious look at Dean.

In truth, everything was wrong. 'Castiel' was wearing sandals, jeans, and an offensively orange t-shirt. His voice was much too high and his face was lighter and more expressive than Sam thought possible. Dean looked like he'd been dragged onto a stage.

"Oh, yikes. Mondays, am I right?" The impostor chuckled, looking at Dean. "Are we still on for Bernali's tonight? Because I am starving, and I need to get off this set. You know how many lines Castiel has this week? Seven. Seven!"

"Uh…" Dean finally found his voice, "No. No no no, uh, sorry, Meesha." Dean maneuvered out of Misha's hand with difficulty. "Sa...Jared and I have some work to do tonight, so… raincheck."

Sam was relieved by Dean's prompt excuse, but his heart sank a little when he saw Misha's expression. Dean didn't sound like he wanted a raincheck at all.

"Oh. Um, sure...sure. I get it. Totally cool." Despite sounding 'totally cool' Misha looked hurt and confused. Dean wasn't looking at him, although Sam noticed his ears were pink. 

Dean put his hands awkwardly in his pockets, suddenly looking more like Castiel than Misha did.

Spotting a familiar looking trailer, Dean broke the awkward silence with a cold, "Yeah, so...bye."

Before Sam could even attempt a convincing farewell, Dean grabbed him and they were off, leaving Misha in surprised silence. 

They didn't speak until they were out of earshot of Misha, who was standing alone by the backdoor.

"You were a little hard on fake-Cas, weren't you?" Sam mustered.

Dean glanced at him hotly. "Seriously? Sam, we need to get out of here."

"Yeah, but…" Sam sighed. "Forget it."

Dean looked unusually tense. He closed his eyes as they passed a row of fake-Impalas and took measured breaths.

Dean's memory served him well because the familiar looking trailer ended up being Jensen's, aka fake-Dean's. Dean walked right in with Sam at his heels and locked the door behind him. Sam went around closing the blinds.

"Okay, okay so… we need to contact Castiel," Sam said, his face aglow in the light of the gigantic aquarium filled with angelfish and blue-green parrotfish.

"Right. How?" Dean fired back.

They discussed it for a while, but no ideas came to them. If this world was similar to the old one then magic wouldn't work here, meaning they had little choice but to wait for Castiel to find them.

Sam couldn't help but notice that every mention of Castiel's name had a strange effect on Dean -- his face kept getting harder and harder, until Dean began avoiding the name altogether. Sam looked slightly annoyed.

They killed time in their usual way -- Sam was on Jensen's computer, and Dean was messing around, touching everything. After he almost broke a model helicopter and received a patronizing look from Sam, he moved instead to a stack of magazines. 

Dean's heart sank. He was on the cover with Castiel. Or rather, Jensen was on the cover with Misha, hand in hand. Dean flipped through the magazine, unable to stop himself.

Sam noticed Dean had gone quiet and asked in a would-be-casual tone, "Anything useful in there?"

Dean closed the magazine, looking strangely vacant. 

"No." He sat down on Jensen's couch at last, no longer interested in checking out the trailer, and didn't say anything else.

Sam sighed. He found a few potential leads on how to contact angels in different dimensions, but none of them seemed remotely likely to work in their non-magical universe. He was getting irritated, and Dean's phone kept dinging. 

Finally, Sam said, "Would you either answer your phone or turn it off, please?"

"It's not mine."

"What?"

Dean sighed and reached over for it. "Must be 'Jensen's'."

"Oh." Sam cleared his throat. "Well, turn it off, then. Please."

Sam watched Dean observe the phone. For a moment the only sound in the trailer was the low hum of the aquarium. 

"Misha?" Sam asked.

Dean grunted a yes then turned the phone off.

Sam eyed Dean, looking reluctant. "You know, you should probably talk to him. We're attracting enough attention as it is. It might be best to…"

"To what?" Dean asked grumpily, looking over his shoulder at him.

Sam sighed, "To act our parts?"

Dean scoffed, but his indignation didn't carry any real weight. He muttered something that sounded like 'why don't you go kiss him then, 'Jared'?'

"You know, why don't you go get us some food or something?" Sam talked over him. "Go raid the catering table. Maybe they've got those mini sandwiches you liked so much."

Dean looked annoyed, but he'd clearly been won over by Sam's realization. Those mini Philly cheesesteaks had been awesome. "Fine. You stay here. Research."

Sam smiled slightly as Dean left, leaving Jensen's phone behind. Then Sam sighed and shook his head, "Idiot."

Without the consistent clacking of the keyboard under Sam's fingers, Dean found a flurry of thoughts bombarding him as he marched back to the main building.

Play their parts? Really? What was Sam thinking? They needed to hide out--To not be seen. Besides, what was Sam insinuating? Putting on a fake badge was one thing, but pretending to be Castiel's boyfriend was absolutely out of the question. How could Sam even suggest that? With that smug little smile of his… pretend to be Castiel's boyfriend. Like Dean was even interested. Why would he be? No. It was ridiculous. Insulting! Completely out of line… and yet, there was a knot in Dean's stomach, and he knew no Philly cheesesteak would help.

"Mr. Ackles?"

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts at once. He'd stacked so many mini sandwiches into a Styrofoam container that it wouldn't close, and the young woman from before was handing him some colored papers.

"Can you give these to Misha? I called him to come down and get it but he didn't answer. It's the new pages for tomorrow."

She was already walking away before Dean could object. He looked at the pages, holding them haphazardly alongside his container of sandwiches, and suddenly felt a rush of guilt. 

Misha seemed like one of those annoying social butterfly types -- Castiel's complete opposite. Maybe that was what was offending Dean so much -- so why wasn't Misha answering his phone?

Great. Just great. Dean tried to close the box, gave up, then shoved a sandwich into his mouth and stormed off.

Half of the sandwiches he was supposed to be bringing to Sam were gone before Dean finally decided he'd have to bring Misha those pages, if for no other reason than to ease his conscious.

He walked reluctantly through a maze of trailers, his heart sinking when he actually found the right one. It had a plague on it with the name 'Misha' engraved. Seeing the name printed just made it seem even more ridiculous. Dean mouthed it aloud, snorted coldly, then knocked on the door.

Misha came out looking curious, but his face fell when he saw Dean. His eyes took in the pages and Kraft Services container and sighed.

"You didn't have to do that, Jensen." Despite the somewhat sad look on his face, he smiled slightly and opened the door to let him in.

Confused, Dean hesitated. He wasn't sure why delivering the pages required coming inside his trailer, but he'd figured he should just get it over with. He walked up the steps and into the trailer, not looking at Misha.

Misha closed the door behind them and took the box out of Dean's hands. Dean made to protest but the words wouldn't come.

Misha set the box on the table and turned to face him, looking strangely wise.

"So."

Dean swallowed. "So."

"I thought you were doing 'stuff' with Jared tonight."

"Oh. Right, yeah I am."

Misha nodded thoughtfully and sat down at the table. Dean couldn't help but notice how many of what he presumed were Jensen's things were strewn about Misha's trailer. Dean made another meek attempt to protest as Misha took one of his sandwiches, then gave up.

"Well, I accept your peace offering," Misha said, taking a bite, "But I still want to check out Bernali's sometime."

Misha was giving him such a knowing look that Dean felt himself flush. He threw the papers down on Misha's counter. "Yeah sure, why not? It's not like the world is ending or anything," he grunted.

Misha paused mid-bite, "What?"

"Nothing," Dean said. "Look, Misha, Sam and I… I mean, Jared, we really do have things to work on tonight so…" he inched closer to the box of sandwiches.

Misha swallowed slowly, an odd look coming over his face. Once again Dean was struck by the realization that it was Castiel's face looking at him. Still, he tried to press on.

"So I'm just gonna leave and go do that…"

"Oh my god," Misha said at last.

"What?" Dean looked around in alarm, reaching for a knife in his pocket.

"I know what you're doing," Misha said, his blue eyes bright as suns.

Dean's eyes fell on Misha, his hand frozen above his pocket. "What...what am I doing?"

"You're Dean."

Dean stared at him hard, his hunter senses on full alert. He looked shocked. "How did you…" he murmured.

Misha smiled in relief, almost laughed, then took another sandwich. Apparently, he had as big of an appetite as Dean. 

"Uh, for one, you're being a total ass. Blowing off our date, not responding to my texts? You haven't acted like that since Season Seven. Two, you're still wearing all your Dean stuff. And three, since when do you talk like that?" He swallowed and imitated a low, manly voice, "It's not like the world is ending or whatever…" Misha laughed, and his voice sounded higher than ever. "Ah, you really had me going there. Good one."

Dean's mouth went dry. "No, Misha, I…"

"Should I be Cas?" He asked suddenly, then put on Castiel's expression of vague curiosity so fast that it gave Dean whiplash. "Dean?"

Dean's heart leapt into his throat. "What...what are you doing?"

Castiel squinted. "I believe it's called 'roleplay'."

Dean saw a twinkle of Misha in his eyes, then Misha broke character and smiled. "You are such a dick, Ackles," he chuckled. "I really thought you were mad at me."

Dean faked a smile. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure." He was just glad Misha wasn't Castiel anymore, or whatever. His head hurt, and he felt strangely tingly.

Misha stood up and threw away the empty box (Dean sighed), then walked over to him. "You know, I thought this was about last night. I thought I might've gone a little too far," he confessed. He looked awkward for a moment, then added, "I'm sorry."

Dean stared at him nervously. "Uh...no, no it's fine."

Misha had an insecure little smile on his face that made Dean's heart flutter. Dean mentally kicked himself and tried to back away, but he was already leaning against Misha's counter.

"You know, when I said I wanted to… uh, try some new things." Misha smiled fondly and moved closer, much too close. "I knew it was a long shot, but after you left I was afraid, well… it doesn't matter. I just didn't think you'd be this open to it. Not right away, anyway," Misha chuckled gently. 

He was leaning against Dean who had frozen, his hands glued to the counter behind him. 

Misha smiled in relief. "I mean… roleplay. Not what I thought you'd pick, but… thank you." 

His lips were so close that Dean could feel his breath warming his face.

Misha kissed him again and, in the privacy of the trailer, Dean felt his eyes close. He let the kiss linger, like a fine whiskey, then broke away. Misha looked grateful.

"So, Dean. I mean..." he cleared his throat and instantly looked and sounded like Castiel again, "So, Dean."

Dean looked at him, something vulnerable in his eye. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to, uh… fornicate?"

A curious sensation arose in his Dean, and he heard himself laugh. It was a genuine, surprised laugh. He hadn't laughed since they'd been sent to this upside down TV world. He felt himself relax, inches from Castiel's face. No, it was Misha's. Why couldn't he remember that?

Castiel kissed him again, and Dean found his hands moving, his arms looping around Castiel's waist. Castiel put his arms around Dean a little too eagerly, but it was so close. It was almost perfect.

Castiel broke away, smiling mysteriously, then asked, "Is that a yes, Dean?"

Dean stared at Castiel, his eyes glazed over. Numbly, without thinking, he nodded.

Castiel smiled and took Dean's hand.

Dean let Castiel lead him to the bedroom, which had even more of Jensen's things. Dean barely noticed this time. They resumed their kiss in the dim light, backing up onto the bed.

In what felt like a single heartbeat, Dean found himself making out with Castiel on his bed, laying in his shadow and feeling his warmth pressing on him. Dean's head was swimming. He couldn't get enough of Castiel's taste. Everything, even the bed, smelled like him.

Castiel began undressing him, and Dean obliged more willingly than he'd ever admit. His self-consciousness was gone, his worries and thoughts of the future were gone because deep down he knew this wasn't Castiel. But when Castiel got to Dean's boxers, Dean hesitated. He gave Castiel a look that must have been so 'Dean' that Misha assumed it was part of the roleplay, because he murmured, "It's okay, Dean," and calmed him with kisses.

Dean melted a little, letting Castiel continue. Castiel slipped Dean's boxers down and Dean sighed into the kiss. It was so easy to forget, to ignore, to push everything down. Then Castiel took Dean's growing erection into his hand, and Dean's two worlds blended into this one, perfect universe.

Dean let himself be pushed onto his back and felt Castiel slide a leg over, straddling him. Dean sighed in arousal as Castiel's warm weight pressed onto him. He could feel Castiel's erection on his, and soon Castiel was stroking their cocks together and rolling his hips nice and slow. 

Dean gripped Castiel's hips, guiding him effortlessly. 

Castiel hummed his approval, grinding atop Dean with surprising fluidity. Castiel's body -- it was perfect to Dean. His hands slid up Castiel's sides, feeling the subtle definition. His fingers found the spot where Castiel's tattoo was and rubbed the bare skin there.

Misha was getting breathless, but he kept Castiel's face on. Dean hardly noticed.

"Dean," Castiel slowed and put his hands over Dean's, which were now placed firmly on Castiel's chest. "Do you want to top?" 

It was such an un-Castiel question, but he said so convincingly that Dean got the chills. Castiel looked gorgeous like this -- bare bodied, sitting on Dean's hips, fully erect and eyeing Dean like the love of his life.

Castiel rolled his hips invitingly, but in the quiet, darkened room Dean found himself saying, "No. Not tonight."

Castiel's face changed. For a moment Dean was worried, but then he realized that Castiel wasn't suspicious or angry. He was taking control. 

Dean's heart leapt as Castiel shifted between Dean's legs, which opened for him seemingly of their own accord. Castiel leaned down to kiss Dean's neck, his collarbone, his chest, all while his hands began roaming over Dean's ass.

Dean's head was lighter than air. It felt like he was in a dream. Castiel was more gorgeous than ever wedged between Dean's trembling thighs. Castiel rubbed Dean's entrance and Dean shivered. Castiel kissed him still, feeling around for something in his nightstand.

Dean wasn't looking, but he knew what it was. Castiel set a half emptied bottle of lube and a few condoms on the bed.

"Dean…" he mumbled, pouring some lube into his hand. The subtle smell of silicon with a hint of cherry hit Dean like a tidal wave.

"Have you ever done this before?"

Dean nodded slowly, "Y...years ago."

"Hm," Castiel considered this.

Dean thought he saw a flash of Misha in his smile, but then Castiel's warm, slick fingers were pressing inside of him, and all logic fled Dean's brain. Dean leaned his head back, his lips parted in a silent sigh.

Castiel kissed him while he opened him up, helping him relax and nibbling affectionately on his lips. 

A couple of times Misha smiled and teased, "You're always so tight, Jensen." But Dean barely heard it. Castiel's fingers were sending him straight to Heaven.

When Castiel could comfortably fit three fingers inside of him, a feat that made Dean's body heat up powerfully, he pulled out, leaving Dean feeling numb and aching for more. 

Dean watched Castiel's hands open a condom packet and slide it over his fully erect cock, glistening pink in the dull bedroom light. Then Castiel lowered his hips, holding himself at the ready and muttered, "Dean. Are you ready?"

Dean nodded resolutely. "Do it, Cas."

Castiel's cock, hot and wet, pushed into Dean's body, and Dean swelled with arousal. He was surprised at how perfectly Castiel fit, or maybe that was Misha's doing. He seemed intimately familiar with Dean's body. He angled himself just right, gliding into Dean with a heavy breath of satisfaction and filling Dean was warmth.

Dean couldn't help it; he moaned, spreading his legs for Castiel to fill himself completely. Castiel's hips pressed up against Dean's ass, and he lowered himself over Dean's body.

Dean was beside himself with satisfaction. He felt so full, so complete. Even the semi-uncomfortable tightness was pleasurable. The warm, cherry scented air, the smell of their sex, it was intoxicating. He moved his arms around Castiel's back, gripping him -- no, holding him -- close.

"Dean," Castiel panted in his ear.

Dean nodded, not needing to hear the question forming on Castiel's lips, and Castiel started to move. 

Dean groaned shamelessly as Castiel fucked him slowly, sweetly, perfectly. It was Heaven. Castiel rolled his body into Dean, kissing him, hell, making love to him. Dean had never felt so good in his life.

Dean rocked his hips, undulating with Castiel, and he felt a rush of pride when he heard Castiel moan. It was such a human sound that he couldn't tell if it was Misha or Cas, but Dean didn't care anymore. His body felt too good to care about anything.

Soon his and Castiel's movements were getting heavier and hungrier. Castiel sat up, put his hands on Dean's hips, and thrust into him at a steady, powerful pace. 

Dean ignored his lack of tattoo and closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the sensations. Bottoming had never felt this good before -- if it had he'd have never looked at a woman again.

When he felt Castiel's hand wrap around his cock, Dean gasped in protest, "No, Cas… I'm gonna come."

"It's okay, Dean," Castiel breathed, slowly stroking his cock while he fucked him steadily. "I want you to come."

Dean moaned. Castiel's hand was focusing all of the blissful sensations coursing through his body straight into his cock. Dean couldn't stop himself. He didn't even want to. He rolled his hips, swallowing up Castiel's cock while Castiel jacked him off, and soon Dean was muttering and cursing under his breath, his balls tingling warningly.

"Oh fuck...fuck, Cas, yes. Please… don't stop…."

Castiel didn't stop, and Dean suddenly gasped and shuddered. Unable to control himself, he came powerfully onto his chest and stomach, his eyes shut tight and his mouth agape. He convulsed in ecstasy, arching his back in bliss, and heard Misha swearing, too. 

When Dean opened his eyes, Misha's head was tipped back in the throes of an orgasm, thrusting it out into Dean's body, his hand wrapped around Dean's cock like a saddlehorn. His quiet gasps and sighs were like music, filling Dean with affection and warmth. Dean smoothed his hand up Castiel's arm as he watched.

Misha opened his eyes at last, looking down at Dean, and smiled hazily. He pulled out, leaving Dean feeling sore but immensely satisfied. He pinched the condom off, threw into a conveniently placed trash can, then collapsed beside Dean.

Dean instinctively pulled him into his arms, and Misha cuddled against him gladly. He cleared his throat, trying to find Cas's voice, but only barely managed it.

"Dean… I've wanted to do that for years."

Dean smiled. Once again, in the dark and private bedroom, in another universe, Dean found a raw and unfiltered truth seeping out of him, "Me too, Cas." 

He kissed his head and Misha smiled. 

Dean had never felt so relaxed in his life, and yet he could feel something uncomfortable lying in wait, stirring just beneath his blissful haze. He suddenly craved a shot of whiskey or, hell, a whole bottle.

Dean couldn't see his face, but he could feel Misha's smile fading in the silence between them. Misha turned his head against Dean's chest.

"Jensen?"

The uncomfortable something in Dean's chest crept out at that name, and Dean felt the beginnings of shame. "Hm?" He replied distantly.

Misha rubbed Dean's chest, drawing vague shapes with his fingers. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem a little… off."

Dean closed his eyes.

"And I don't mean because you're Dean," he added. His voice was soft and raspy. "You know, if there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here for you." Misha leaned on his elbow to look at Dean.

Dean couldn't take it. Those bright blue eyes, that slightly worried, comforting expression. Dean turned away from him and got up.

Misha let him, watching him with a look of growing self-doubt.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Misha, hating himself more than ever. In the absence of his warmth, Dean felt cold and horribly empty.

"Jen…" Misha's voice shook with the effort of keeping it casual. But before he could even finish his plea, light from the main cabin of the trailer blinded him and Dean.

His senses dulled by sex and guilt, Dean didn't even flinch as the door was pushed open, and Jensen, the real Jensen, stared in at them.

Dean and Misha froze. Jensen froze. Despite sharing the same face, Dean and Jensen's expression split into completely different masks. Dean looked shocked and furious with himself. He looked lost and resigned. Jensen was stony faced, yet a solemn understanding softened his features. But before either could speak, a horribly familiar series of sounds followed Jensen into the bedroom.

Jensen instinctively threw his arm out to stop Castiel from walking into the scene, but it was too late. Castiel looked like he'd walked into an invisible wall when he saw Dean and Misha. He blinked, went rigid, and the sight finally broke Misha.

"What the fuck is going on?" He yelped.

Jensen sighed. Dean could feel Castiel's eyes boring wide, stunned holes into his skull. Dean stared at the wall.

"Alright," Jensen finally said, doing an odd sort of twitch to keep himself from going to Misha's aide, who was covering his chest with the blankets and looking stricken. "Get dressed. Both of you. We need to talk."

Castiel didn't look capable of independent movement, so Jensen took him by the trenchcoat and led him out of the room. The door shut with a muffled whump that deafened Dean.

Dean needed to say something to Misha. Anything. But no words seemed capable of resolving this kind of tension. No words Dean knew anyway. Sam could have probably suggested a few.

Luckily, Misha seemed to be in too much of a shock to do anything except get dressed. Dean heard him drop his belt a couple of times and felt a fresh wave of shame wash over him.

Neither said anything to each other as they finished getting dressed. Misha left the room first and Dean followed without complaint.


	2. Chapter 2

****Jensen and Castiel were waiting at Misha's table. Jensen looked exhausted. Castiel looked like a deer in headlights. Misha paused as he made to take the chair by Jensen, Dean wished he hadn't seen, but then Jensen patted the chair for him. Misha sat shakily beside him, leaving Dean feeling oddly unworthy and unclean. Dean took a chair furthest away from all of them and looked only at Jensen.

Jensen sighed. Dean wondered when he started looking so old.

Again, Misha was the first to speak. "So, does anyone want to tell me what the actual fuck is going on here?" He looked at Castiel in alarm. "Why is he… why am I sitting there? And why are you…" he looked between Dean and Jensen, lost, "Why are you...there?"

"Well," Castiel replied, relieved by such a simple question, "you see, Dean and I are from another universe. When Sam and Dean were thrown into this universe, your universe, they seemed to have switched places with the Sam and Dean in this universe. I mean, Jared and Jensen. And I… I came to rescue them."

"So…" Misha said slowly, "So you're 'Cas'."

"Yes," Cas said.

"And you…" Misha finally looked at Dean. He looked like he wanted to laugh, or maybe throw up. "You're really Dean, aren't you?"

Dean was ready for it. He looked at him resolutely. "Yes."

Misha sank back in his chair, whispering a defeated, "Oh my god." But just as he seemed to take it all in, he suddenly exclaimed, "But this is crazy!"

"Tell me about it," Jensen said.

"Wait, so," Dean finally spoke, making everyone look at him. "You were in our world?"

"Yep," Jensen said.

Dean almost smiled, but the reflex was consumed by the ever growing black hole in his chest.

"So you and Sam… I mean, J...Jared… were in 'Supernatural'. For real."

"Yep."

Dean glanced at Cas instinctively, and the black hole grew even bigger.

"This is insane," Misha repeated, "You guys, your lives are actually… 'Supernatural'?"

"Yes," Cas answered.

Misha stared at him, "That sucks."

Dean almost laughed, but it was too true. "Tell me about it."

Misha frowned, "I thought… I thought you were Jensen." 

There was a pleading note in his voice and for the first time, Misha looked truly hurt. Dean forced himself not to look away, forced himself to feel the pain he knew he deserved.

"I did… try to tell you," Dean attempted.

Misha gave a shaky laugh, then looked ashamed. "I thought you were roleplaying."

Jensen sighed. He reached out, offering his hand to Misha as if in apology. To Dean's immense, undeserved relief, Misha took it. Jensen's shoulders relaxed, but Castiel looked more rigid than ever.

Finally, the words Dean knew he needed to say poured out of him. "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have… I knew it was wrong, but I…" Dean couldn't look at Cas. "I'm sorry," he repeated, looking at Jensen and Misha instead.

Misha wiped his eyes vaguely. "I don't think there's a rule book for this, you know? Who would have thought I'd be inviting Dean Winchester into my trailer?" He smiled slightly.

Dean understood himself to be forgiven, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"Dean," Jensen said, "We'll take care of everything on our end, alright? You just go back with Cas, and…" There was something knowing in his eye, something keeping Jensen from being rightfully angry. Something that made Dean feel transparent and yet strangely at ease. But whatever Jensen was going to say, he seemed unable to. Instead, he said, "Castiel? Misha? Would you two give us a moment?"

Misha and Castiel shared a look of surprise.

"Yeah, of course," Misha said.

Jensen got up and beckoned Dean to the bedroom. Dean got up without a word and followed, ready for the worst.

When they were alone, or at least out of earshot of the two Castiels, Jensen turned to face Dean.

"Alright, go ahead," Dean said stoically.

Jensen looked mildly amused.

"Come on. You're entitled. Hit me."

Jensen shook his head, "I'm not mad, Dean." When Dean looked disbelieving, Jensen elaborated, "How can I be? I'm you."

Dean took a breath. His head hurt.

"Dean, look, I know you better than anyone in any universe could possibly know you, including yourself, and every other 'yourself' that exists." Jensen said.

Dean didn't say anything. He had been prepared for this ever since they first entered the TV Land universe. The idea of someone out there who played Dean on TV terrified him, in the same way that shrinks terrified him. And yet, now that he was finally meeting his actor, he felt oddly calm. He couldn't help but trust him. He understood now why Jensen wasn't mad. Dean wouldn't be mad if Jensen slept with Cas, either. Not really. He couldn't explain. He just… understood.

"So I know why you did what you did," Jensen went on, "and I know you're going to punish yourself for it no matter what anyone says. So I want you… I need you to listen to me. There’s a few things I need to say to you, and I need you to have faith, just for a minute."

Dean was confused again, but he said, "Alright."

Jensen nodded approvingly. "I don't know about all the other Deans and Castiels out there, but that Cas," he gestured towards the table where Misha sat talking interestedly to a deeply uncomfortable looking Castiel, "that Cas would do anything for you. That Cas loves you."

Dean refused to look away, but his eyes fluttered all the same.

"So when you get back to your universe, find a quiet place to talk, take Castiel there, and tell him everything. We both know why this happened, and it's time that Castiel knows, too."

Dean didn't have to ask what Jensen meant. There was a fierce understanding in his eyes, and in Dean's too, he was sure.

"You think that'll work?" Dean asked quietly.

"It worked for me," Jensen said.

Once again Dean glanced at Misha, who was now playfully badgering Castiel and inspecting his coat. Castiel looked resigned. Dean smiled.

Jensen mirrored Dean's smile and patted his shoulder, "You'll be alright, Dean. Have faith in yourself."

Dean looked at Jensen and nodded. He wanted to thank him, but once again the words wouldn't come. He was sure Jensen understood in any case.

"Good. Now go back with Castiel before he smites Misha," Jensen bit back a smile, "Jared and Sam are waiting for you."

Dean felt numb, and yet oddly light. He wondered if Jared was as dignified and intuitive as Jensen. If he was anything like Sam he'd probably be a genius, too.

Dean stepped back out into the main cabin, and Castiel looked grateful.

"Wow your eyes are blue. Hey, do you ever just wanna like, stay dead? I mean, seriously, that's gotta be…"

"Misha," Jensen shook his head subtly.

Misha hesitated, and Dean knew immediately that Jensen was the only person for whom Misha would hesitate. 

Still, as if he couldn't help himself, he murmured, "Gosh now I kinda feel bad for voting for your death all those times."

Dean and Jensen sighed. Castiel stared at him.

"Right. Well, we should go," Castiel muttered, looking away briskly.

Dean didn't argue. He wanted to go home. As he turned to leave, Jensen shook his hand and gave him an affirming nod. Misha waved amicably, then took Jensen's hand. For a moment, Dean felt an impulse to take Castiel's hand.

Dean gave them one last look, then followed Castiel's swishing trenchcoat out the door and into the night.

Dean ambled behind Castiel, who was taking long, determined strides and looking straight ahead. Dean avoiding readjusting his boxers several times.

The silence of the night seemed to be pressing in on Dean's lungs as they walked down the mini subdivision of trailers. Dean knew he should say something, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wasn't even sure if Castiel was angry with him and was angry in general. He wished he could read his mind as easily as Jensen's.

"Hey, Cas," Dean rasped at last, "You uh… you really saved our ass. We owe you one."

Castiel didn't look back. "Oh I dunno, it seemed like you were handling the situation just fine."

Dean frowned. Yeah, Cas was mad at him. Still, Dean felt his temper flare. He chose not to say anything. He suddenly remembered what Misha was asking him, and he couldn't help but wonder what it was like to keep being brought back to life. Sure, Dean had come back, too, but that was his own experience. He couldn't believe he'd never asked Cas about his.

Suddenly, Dean saw a familiar, tall figure standing in the shadow of Jensen's trailer. Two familiar, tall figures, actually. Except one of them was wearing a beanie. Dean could have sworn Castiel rolled his eyes and stiffened up.

"Dean! Hi," Sam said suddenly, interrupting not-Sam.

Even though Dean had just met his own doppelganger, it was still weird to see two Sams. He knew immediately which one was his brother, though. Sam looked as inflexible and irritable as Castiel, whereas Jared looked like he was having a hard time standing still. He was grinning.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," Jared shook Dean's hand, making Dean stare at him suspiciously. "Sam was just telling me all about you."

Sam sighed.

Jared glanced at him then put on a solemn expression appropriate for a funeral, "I mean, I hope this evening finds you well."

Sam closed his eyes, praying for patience.

"So how was Misha? Did you sleep with him?" Jared cracked a smile.

Dean went wide eyed. Castiel shut his eyes. Sam stared at them both in slowly dawning realization.

Jared faltered a little, "Oh, shit."

Dean glared at him, then said to Sam, "Let's get the hell out of here."

Jared shot Sam an 'oops' expression. Sam sighed. There was a moment of tense silence as Castiel took out a jar of blood from his coat and began drawing a circle on the blacktop.

"So he just…" Jared whispered to Sam, trying not to grin and failing, "...carries a jar of blood around all the time, huh?"

Sam glared at him.

Castiel finished the sigil and stood up, "Alright, Sam, Dean, you stand here. I'll begin the ritual, and I'll meet you in the bunker."

Everyone nodded. 

Jared saluted. "Godspeed."

But before Sam could join Dean, Jared pulled him back. Dean and Castiel waited, both of them looking anywhere but at each other.

"Hey, Sam. Wait up."

"What?" Sam snapped, but he immediately felt bad. Jared had on a surprisingly patient, almost fatherly look.

"I wanted to tell you something," Jared said.

Sam forced his expression to soften, "What is it?"

"You need to lighten up, Sam."

"What?"

"I mean it," Jared went on, "Relax. Have a little fun. I know you, man. I am you… sorta. What I'm trying to say is… I care about you. People care about you. You should care about you, too." Jared smiled at him.

Sam wasn't sure he'd ever met a more confusing person in his life, but he could tell Jared was being honest. Hell, Sam trusted him. He wasn't sure why.

Sam nodded, "Alright. Thanks," and gave him a slight smile.

Jared beamed. He slapped his back proudly, making Sam almost fall over. 

"Good. That's good. Well, good luck! Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Jared grinned again and stepped back.

Sam shook his head in amusement and joined Dean in the circle. They shared a look of mutual relief that the night was finally over.

"So," Dean said, "Did you bang fake-Ruby again?"

Jared looked up at them.

Sam paled. "Wh...n...no! Of course not…" 

He looked frantically from Jared to Dean. Dean was fighting back a victorious smile. Sam glared at him. Jared looked puzzled.

"Wow, Dean, is there any other relationship here you want to ruin before we go?" Sam said to Dean, "You know what? Let's bring Jensen back instead."

Castiel raised his voice as he finished the ritual, drowning out Sam and Dean's bickering. They didn't even have time to get one last look at the trailer and moonlit sky before a flash of light engulfed them.


	3. Chapter 3

****Sam and Dean blinked, temporarily blinded, then found themselves looking around at the Men of Letters bunker.

The library was aglow with lamplight, and the metal staircase was empty. They were so relieved to be home that they forgot their fight almost instantly.

"Thank god." Dean went straight to the bar.

Sam sank into a chair at the library table, rubbing his eyes. "Wow. That was… wow."

Dean hadn't finished pouring his drink before Castiel came down the metal stairs to meet them.

"Are you both okay?" He asked, looking exhausted.

"Yeah, Cas," Sam said, "Thanks."

Dean raised his glass in thanks, then drained it.

Castiel looked away. "Good. Well, uh… that spell, it drained me. So, if you don't mind…"

"Yeah, absolutely," Sam said. "Make yourself at home, Cas."

There was an awkward silence as Dean poured another glass.

Sam cleared his throat. "Why don't you take my room? I can crash out here. Do you remember how to use my Netflix?"

"I… yes. Thank you, Sam." Castiel said wearily, "I won't be long, I promise."

"It's no problem…" Sam trailed off. Castiel was already leaving for the hallway.

Dean poured another glass.

Sam sighed and looked at Dean. "You maybe wanna go easy on that?"

"Nope," Dean said over the top of his glass.

Sam glared at him, but his annoyance with Dean's insensitivity and poor impulse-control was cut by sympathy. He took a breath then asked as gently as possible, "So did you really… uh… sleep with Misha?"

Dean took a moment to answer, watching the deep amber liquid swirl in his glass. "Yes."

Sam bit back a sigh. "And did Cas find out?"

Dean smiled bitterly. "You could say that."

Sam couldn't stop himself from sighing that time. Castiel probably walked in on them. It would explain everything.

"Did you really bang fake-Ruby?" Dean asked curiously.

Sam took a breath, then smiled in disbelief. Suddenly they were both smiling. Dean chuckled. He took the bottle, a second glass, and joined Sam at the table.

"You know, I kinda liked fake-me," Dean said as he poured Sam a shot.

Sam took it without complaint. "Yeah, me too."

"Jared, though… jeez. What a freak."

Sam chuckled, "I don't know. He kinda reminded me of you."

Dean smiled. "That's funny, Jensen reminded me of you."

Sam smiled back, appreciating the irony. "What about Misha?"

Dean's smile faltered. "He was alright. Nothing like Cas, though. Kinda… weird. And no clue about personal space."

"That… kinda sounds like Cas."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

Even though the air between them had lightened considerably, Sam could still feel the lack of Castiel's presence like a weight in the room. He finished his glass but didn't take another.

"Cas seemed pretty upset. Are you going to talk to him?"

Dean frowned. "I hadn't thought about it yet," he lied.

"Well, I think you should." He ignored Dean's sarcastic expression and asked, "Dean, why… I mean, did Misha… come on to you or something?"

Dean took another sip. "Yeah."

"And you just…" Sam pressed his luck.

Dean glared at him. "What do you think?"

Sam sighed. The fact that Dean was still sitting there, drinking and letting Sam ask questions, meant that he was feeling guilty. Sam knew him well enough to know that.

"Dean, just go talk to him. I'm sure he'll understand."

"You're sure, huh?" Dean asked coldly.

"Yeah. I am." Sam held his ground. "In fact, I think it's way overdue."

Dean closed his eyes, but when he opened them he didn't look angry anymore.

"Yeah, maybe," he conceded. He had half a mind to tell Sam that Jensen told him the same thing, but Dean decided to keep that between himself and Jensen.

"Well, I'm gonna crash," Sam said, getting up and stretching. "You should do the same."

Dean nodded at him as he headed towards the lounge. 

In Sam's absence, Dean didn't feel remotely relieved to be home anymore. The aftermath of everything made him feel like he'd be better off in TV Land, where Cas would never have to look at him again.

It had been a violation, Dean thought. A violation of trust, friendship, and most importantly -- of Castiel. Dean felt ashamed of himself, and he dreaded talking to Castiel. He dreaded hearing the words he knew he deserved to hear:

_ "How could you? You slept with my double? You might as well have slept with me! What gives you the right?" _

But worst of all, he dreaded being asked the question: 

_ "Why?" _

He dreaded the look of realization on Castiel's face. Not of disgust or pity, but of angelic, inhuman confusion, incapable of understanding.

_ "I'm an angel of the lord." _

_ "You're my family." _

_ "You're a human." _

_ "A cursed, damaged human." _

_ "It's not possible, Dean. I'm sorry." _

Dean would have given anything to skip to the end of that conversation -- to the part where they pretended it never happened and moved on, their friendship irreparably fractured -- but Castiel deserved an explanation, and despite Dean's mistrustful instincts he did have faith in Jensen. He just wished he had it in himself.

Dean didn't move until he finished the bottle, then he got up and walked resolutely down the hallway to Sam's room as if he were walking to his death. He felt like he had when he stood at the door of Misha's trailer -- like he just wanted it over with.

Dean knocked, but no one responded. Just when Dean's trepidation was giving way to genuine confusion, the door opened.

Castiel looked nothing like Misha. He glared at Dean, looking as old and exhausted as Jensen had looked at Misha's table.

"Yes?"

Dean swallowed. "Got a second? We need to talk."

Castiel eyed him, then reluctantly stepped aside.

Dean walked into Sam's room and looked around, feigning interest in the blank walls. Castiel sat on Sam's bed and waited.

Dean had expected Castiel to say something first, but when it became clear he wasn't going to, Dean spoke up.

"I uh, wanted to explain what happened back in the other universe."

Castiel glared at him. "I know what happened, Dean. It was extremely obvious, even for an angel," He said testily, as if Dean had accused him of being one.

"Cas, I don't think you know what happened..."

"Oh, forgive me. Perhaps there is a human custom that involves laying in bed naked with someone and _ not _ fornicating."

Even though Castiel's tone was venomous, Dean had to bite back a smile. He really did call it fornicating.

But as it turned out, Castiel was extremely observant after all, and he noticed Dean's ghost of a smirk and glared tenfold at him. 

"I'm not trying to say that I didn't sleep with Misha…" Dean tried to recover.

"Then what _ are _ you saying?"

Temper rising, Dean took a measured breath and said, "I'm _ saying _ that I didn't… I didn't mean to upset you. I'm… sorry." 

Dean knew it was a lame apology, and he could tell Castiel agreed, but Dean's head wasn't working very well at the moment and he couldn't think of better words. In fact, he could hardly think of any at all.

"Well, it's a little late for that," Castiel said shortly.

"What do you want me to say? I wasn't thinking. He caught me off guard and…"

"That's funny, people who catch you off guard usually get stabbed… not laid."

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to start a fight, "It was a different version of you. He was nothing like you!"

Castiel stood up. "Oh, well that's okay, then. Why don't we go and find all the other versions of 'Castiel' that are nothing like me and you can sleep with all of _ them _!"

"Cas…"

"You'll fight Heaven and Hell for me, you'll die for me, but still you'd pick my clone, who is 'nothing like me', over me! You'd rather fornicate with every other 'Castiel' in existence than… than… so long as they're nothing like me..." Castiel stopped. He couldn't bring himself to say anymore. His blue eyes were like ice, burning into Dean's soul, and he seemed to have worked himself into inexpressible anger and grief.

But the fire in Dean's eyes had gone out. He was staring at Castiel in alarm.

"Cas… what are you saying?"

Castiel took a determined breath. "I'm saying that you, Dean Winchester, are an ass. A selfish, martyring..."

"I didn't pick anyone over you! I'd never pick anyone over you…" Dean cut him off, his voice rising ferociously. "How could you even think that, Cas? I didn't…!" But his confidence wavered, and the only thing that kept him going was the other Dean, "I didn't sleep with Misha because he wasn't you. I slept with him _ because _ he was you."

Castiel looked like he was still trying to argue, to express his pain and anger, but his brain had stopped to process what Dean had just said.

"Cas…" Dean took a hesitant step toward him, "I slept with him, because it was so, so easy to pretend it was you. And…"

Castiel glared, his eyes shining.

Dean swallowed and moved closer still. In this universe, it was so much harder to tell the truth, but Dean knew it was the only way to ease his sorrow -- like extracting something poisonous from his body.

"...and I thought it might be the only Castiel who would take me."

Castiel was staring at him, unmoving. 

Unable to read him, Dean lifted an arm to touch Castiel's shoulder, but Castiel grabbed it.

"I am an Angel of the Lord, Dean," He said, his voice suddenly emotionless.

Dean's heart turned cold and dropped down into that black hole in his chest. He'd become a statue, his forearm clamped in Castiel's hand, his touch rejected, their point of connection burning.

"And you…" Castiel's voice shook, "...you should show me some respect."

Dean would have traded his soul to vanish on the spot. But once he realized that there was no way out of this, no escape from this hell, a reckless abandonment filled him. A suicidally stupid impulse. His arm still caught in Castiel's grip, Dean leaned forward and kissed him.

Castiel froze, his expression blank. But a second passed. And then another. Realizing that Castiel wasn't smiting him, Dean softened the kiss and, to his astonishment, he felt Castiel's lips close on his.

Recklessness building, Dean pressed his lips a little more insistently, and he felt Castiel press back. Castiel was kissing him. The real Castiel. Was kissing him back.

Dean brought a hand to Castiel's face, holding him close. Castiel let go of his arm, so Dean cupped his face with both hands. He felt the warmth of Castiel's body near his, and he swooned. He actually swooned.

Dean couldn't believe how easy it was to kiss Castiel. Sure, Cas wasn't the best kisser, but that only reaffirmed the fact that this was really Castiel, and Dean couldn't get enough of him.

All too soon, Castiel was pulling away. Dean let him, lowering his hands to Castiel's shoulders because, hell, he wasn't letting him go if he didn't _ have _ to.

Castiel was looking at Dean, his eyes no longer icy, but they didn't shine with the certainly of Dean's.

"Dean…" he mumbled.

Somehow, Dean knew what was going to happen. He had known it all along. He nodded apologetically and removed his hands.

"Dean," he repeated.

But Dean couldn't look at him a second longer. He couldn't take this rejection. He'd always known, from the moment he met Castiel, Angel of the Lord, that it couldn't work, and now the black hole in his chest would be there forever.

Dean couldn't speak. He pressed his palm against his lips, as if trying to hold on to the sensation a moment longer, then turned away, sparing Castiel from speaking. But he didn't get far. 

A hand grabbed his arm again and, before Dean could move a step farther, Castiel pulled him back into a hungry kiss. And this time, Castiel _ was _ a good kisser.

Castiel kissed Dean like he'd never been kissed before. Dean melted into it without a second thought. Once he realized that it was real, he put his arms around Castiel and kissed him back with a tremulous burst of relief and longing.

Lost in their kiss, Dean was hardly aware of anything else in the world. It was a shock to feel the wall behind him as Castiel moved him backward. It was even more shocking to hear Castiel's voice, whispering over his lips.

"You're wrong, Dean," he breathed.

Dean looked at him, hazy-eyed.

Castiel's eyes were like a vast, bottomless ocean. "I would take you. Over every other Dean in every other universe. I would take you."

Dean didn't know why, but his throat constricted as Cas spoke. He felt like laughing, or maybe crying, neither of which he wanted to do, so he nodded numbly instead.

Castiel saw right through him. He kissed him slowly, gently, then said, "Do you want me, too?"

Dean nodded again, this time staring hopelessly into Castiel's eyes. "Yes." He'd never been more certain of anything in his life.

Castiel didn't say anything else, he simply looked at Dean, so Dean kissed him again as if sealing a promise, and in seconds they were wrapped up in each other's embrace, sharing more kisses than either of them could count, praying for the world to end right there so they could spend forever in that moment. 

Dean was only numbly aware that they were moving again. He couldn't tell who was leading who, but soon they were on the bed, tangled up in each other's warmth.

Dean felt overwhelmed with sensation; Castiel's hot breath on his skin, the warm pressure of his body, Castiel's rough hands unable to settle on any one part of Dean. Dean felt clumsy and weak, he felt like a damn virgin, but he didn't let go of that kiss; like he was afraid Castiel would disappear if he let go.

But Castiel wasn't going anywhere. As if sharing a single mind, they began stripping each other, blindly pulling off jackets and coats, unbuttoning flannels and dress shirts. 

The first contact Dean's bare chest had with Castiel's was like fire. Dean leaned into him, hungry for it. But all too quickly it wasn't enough. 

Dean broke the kiss at last and pushed Cas onto his back. Castiel lay on the bed, letting Dean undo his dress shirt completely. 

Dean's eyes raked over the wide strip of Castiel's bare skin and the Enochian tattoo on his side. Dean dipped down and kissed it. Castiel's hand wove into Dean's hair, and he groaned slightly. It was such a human sound, and it was perfectly, wholly Castiel.

Dean kissed as much of Castiel's skin as he could, pressing his lips down and taking in his smell, his taste, his brain flooded with affection and desire. 

Even though the places Dean kissed were left cool and damp, they burned like fire, coursing through Castiel's body. Castiel grabbed at the back of Dean's shirt, and Dean maneuvered out of it for him, tossing it aside blindly.

Dean could feel Castiel's eyes on his body like a physical touch. When Dean resumed kissing Castiel's stomach, Castiel's hand caressed Dean's bare back, and Dean was filled with so much warmth and pleasure that the only thing he wanted to do was repay it. He wanted, no, he needed Castiel to feel as good as he did.

Dean's hands found Castiel's pants and undid the buttons. He heard Castiel sigh, an overwhelmed yet eager understanding overtaking him. He shifted his hips, letting Dean tug his pants down. Dean could see the shape of Castiel's growing erection clearly beneath his briefs. Temporarily halted, Dean lowered his head and kissed Castiel's cock through the soft material.

Castiel gave a breathy groan, barely audible, but Dean heard it, and it sent waves of pleasure through him. Dean parted his lips to taste Castiel, and suddenly he needed those briefs gone. Castiel seemed to be in agreement because he let Dean tug his briefs down his thighs without complaint.

Dean's eyes fell on Castiel's cock and he froze, taking it all in. He was gorgeous; half hard and thick, the exact same color as Castiel's lips. 

Dean lowered his lips without any conscious thought and kissed the head of Castiel's cock. He heard Castiel's breath hitch. Castiel's natural musk turned to raw, unfiltered taste and, without ending the kiss, Dean opened it and took Castiel's cock into his mouth.

Castiel gasped, then melted against the bed. His knees shifted apart, and his trembling hands found Dean's. Dean took his hands in his, resting at either side of Castiel's hips -- he didn't need them anyway -- as he sucked Castiel's cock further into his mouth.

Castiel groaned.

"Oh...oh Dean."

Dean was in Heaven. He sucked and swallowed, loving every twitch and moan he got out of Castiel. He loved the way Castiel's hands squeezed his and the way he unconsciously moved his hips. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Suddenly Dean needed much more. He needed to feel Castiel's hips. He needed that motion filling his body. Dean released Castiel and looked up at him, lips swollen and glistening. 

Castiel's pupils were blown. He looked feral, and Dean had never seen anything so beautiful. 

Dean didn't have to say anything. Castiel sat up and laid Dean down on the bed, kissing him deeply. Dean opened the kiss, tasting him all over again. He felt Castiel struggling to get his pants off, so Dean shimmied out of them faster than anything. 

Castiel's hands prized his boxers down the globes of his ass until they were both naked on the bed, Castiel atop Dean, his fully erect cock pressing into Dean's hip. 

Dean shivered with arousal and Castiel, who didn't understand, tugged the blankets out from under them to wrap themselves up. Dean smiled out of the kiss.

Castiel paused, looking confused. "What?"

Dean shook his head, his eyes warm. "Nothing."

Dean kissed him before Castiel could press the issue, and Castiel gratefully lost his train of thought. His efforts slowed as he distractedly pulled the blankets over them, and Dean felt like he was being surrounded by large, feathery wings, or maybe that was just his imagination.

Under the blankets, it became much more obvious that they were both naked. Dean could feel Castiel everywhere; every part of his warmth connecting with Dean's. And then Castiel found the perfect spot to drape himself between Dean's legs, and Dean wrapped his arms around him, sighing into the kiss.

"Cas…" Dean murmured, only reluctantly breaking the kiss, "Do you wanna, uh… prep me?"

Castiel gave Dean such a 'Castiel' look that Dean was immediately glad he broke the kiss to ask that question. Dean grinned.

"I don't…" Castiel began.

"Prep me, uh… with your fingers," Dean said awkwardly. "I uh… there's gotta be some lube in here somewhere." Dean prayed. He had never hoped so badly in his life that Sam got busy enough to actually keep lube in his room. But as it turned out, they didn't need any.

Castiel finally understood, and Dean nearly yelped in surprise when he felt Castiel's hand reach down between Dean's legs. Dean's brain went into hyperdrive and he froze, his eyes fluttering as warm fingers touched his entrance.

Dean barely had time to wonder if Castiel knew what he was doing before he felt a curious sensation spreading through his lower body. His eyes widened, locking onto Castiel's, as Castiel's eyes flashed blue.

When Castiel's fingers pressed into him, Dean's body was warm, wet, and perfectly pliant. The realization hit Dean like a speeding car, and his lips parted in a surprised moan.

"Ohh...fuck, Cas."

Castiel had prepped him using his grace. Dean was temporarily struck dumb by a surge of arousal. Distantly he felt Castiel's fingers in him, probing him carefully.

"C...cas," Dean breathed, resisting the urge to roll his hips. "I'm not made of glass, you know." He gave him a winded yet roguish smile.

Castiel couldn't have picked a better time to take Dean at his word. He groped Dean's insides with his fingers, and Dean's whole body lit up. Dean's reaction spurred Castiel on, and he went all out, fingering Dean keenly. Dean moaned, sinking into the bed, his hips shuddering. 

Castiel was so turned on by the sight that he barely spent any time fingering him. Dean didn't care. He went from horny to desperate so fast that he was about to remove Castiel's fingers himself.

Glad to see that his urgent lust was shared by Dean, Castiel pulled his fingers out and quickly situated himself between Dean's thighs. Dean watched him greedily, unable to believe what he was seeing. He'd never felt so needy in his life.

Castiel shared a brief but heavy look with Dean, pressed his cock against Dean's entrance, and pushed in.

Dean's eyes fell closed at once, his lips parted in a perfect 'oh'. Castiel moaned, but Dean's ecstasy seemed beyond sound. Castiel's cock felt like it was made for Dean. It slid over all the perfect spots and nestled hot and thick in Dean's body. Dean trembled and finally made a sound -- a helpless, hungry whimper. He would have mortified him if he'd been in his right mind.

Castiel was panting, palms flat on the sheets, his hips flush against Dean's ass. Castiel looked overwhelmed with pleasure, and not at all bothered by whimpers. Once he caught his breath, he looked at Dean, his blue eyes blazing, and Dean gave him a desperate nod.

Castiel rolled his hips, and Dean groaned. He did it again, and again, stirring Dean deeply, and after just a few slow and steady thrusts, Dean was moaning aloud with pleasure.

At first, Castiel looked worried, but Dean shook his head and sputtered, "'sgood, Cas. Real good. Keep...keep it up."

Encouraged by Dean's approval, Castiel slowly and passionately made love to him, rocking his hips back and forth and overwhelming Dean was ecstasy. 

Dean lifted his feet to hook behind Castiel's back, and Castiel leaned down, weaving their fingers together on either side of the bed. The change in position had Castiel thrusting deeper than ever -- he was barely pulling out at all -- and leaning atop Dean, rubbing Dean's cock with every thrust.

Dean half moaned, half kissed Castiel, their bodies undulating together between the sheets. Dean had never felt so taken care of, so cared for. And what was more -- his body had never felt so good in his life. Not with any woman, and not even with fake-Cas.

A steady stream of curses and encouragements were falling off of Dean's lips. Even when he couldn't speak -- his lips pressed against Castiel's in a series of messy kisses -- the sounds he was making were continuous.

Castiel upped the pace, panting in satisfaction, and Dean groaned urgently.

"Cas! Oh...just like that. Oh f...yeah. Don't… don't you dare stop."

Castiel moaned, truly fucking Dean, and Dean was beside himself. Every inch of him was throbbing with pleasure, even when it hurt it felt immensely gratifying, spurring his pleasure on higher and higher until Dean was sure he'd burst with it any second.

Finally, Dean's body seized up and his pleas fell silent. Luckily Castiel didn't stop because, after one more thrust and swipe over Dean's cock, Dean was coming harder than ever before, coating his and Castiel's stomach. His voice broke and he moaned, and Castiel realized what had happened. Castiel groaned and shuddered to a halt. 

At first, Dean thought something was wrong, but through the haze of his orgasm, he realized Castiel was coming, too. His face was screwed up, his mouth open in ecstasy. Dean had never seen anything so expressive and divine.

Castiel thrust weakly a few more times, giving Dean pleasant jolts as they finished coming in near unison. Then Castiel hung his head and kissed Dean.

Dean kissed back dazedly, barely able to move his lips. It was a slow, messy, satisfied kiss, their bodies throbbing contentedly atop one another. 

Castiel rubbed Dean's fingers with his own as if making sure he was real. Dean rubbed back, kissing the side of Castiel's face. Castiel collapsed atop Dean at last, not bothered by the mess between them or seeping out of Dean's ass. 

Dean never let anyone come in him -- the idea always grossed him out -- but with Castiel it was different. It was such an intimate and human feeling. Dean almost felt embarrassed by how much he liked it.

Once again they seemed to share one mind, because Castiel shifted his hips a little bit and murmured, "Sorry," in realization, "I uh… I should have 'pulled out', shouldn't I?"

Dean grinned sheepishly, "Nah," then kissed him.

Relieved, Castiel kissed him back and didn't mention it again.

Neither of them wanted to end the kiss and move, but after several long, lazy minutes, they both conceded to get up. Castiel pulled out of Dean gently, but Dean winced.

Castiel frowned, "Did I hurt you?"

Dean shook his head, lying. "I'm good, Cas. Really good." The last part was true, anyway.

Still, Castiel touched Dean's entrance, and Dean felt his aches and pain dissolve. Dean felt inexpressibly grateful.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Castiel kissed Dean's knee in answer and gave him an exhausted smile. Dean's smile warmed. Dean took Castiel's hand in his and rubbed it. He would have given anything to just lay down and sleep, huddled up against Castiel's warmth, and from the looks of it Castiel felt the same.

"Hey, um… I could really use a shower," Dean said. As much as he loved the smell of sex, he was craving a hot shower after all of that. "I know you don't really need to, but, if you wanted to join me…" Dean rose a brow.

Castiel considered this. "You want me to… join you in the shower?"

Dean suddenly felt a little silly, not at all his usual suave, post-sex self, but then Castiel nodded.

"I'd like that."

Dean smiled. "Awesome."

But before Dean and Castiel could disentangle themselves and get out of bed, they heard a pounding that broke them both out of their hazy, happy stupor.

"Hey!" Sam's muffled door boomed through the closed door. "You guys better not be screwing in my room!"

Dean and Castiel exchanged wide eyed looks of realization, then they both grinned. Their silence was Sam's answer. They heard him sigh in the hallway.

"Don't… don't use my shower."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on, Sam," he hollered.

An hour later, Dean and Castiel were sitting at the library table, both of them freshly showered, changed, and extremely at peace with the world. Dean had a cup of coffee and was on Sam's laptop. Castiel was content just sitting next to him. Sam was noisily doing laundry down the hall.

"He's angry with us, isn't he?" Castiel murmured.

Dean chuckled, "He'll be fine. Not the first time, and it won't be the last."

It took Castiel a minute to realize what that meant.

Dean suddenly looked a little hesitant. "I mean, if you want to…"

"Yes," Castiel answered him, "I do."

Dean's hesitation melted away. He smiled to himself. "Good."

Deciding he only needed one hand to drink coffee and use the laptop, Dean took Castiel's hand on the table. Castiel smiled and held it back.


	4. Bonus

****Bernali's Restaurant was full of laughing, chatting people sitting under dimly lit stained glass lamps. Jensen and Misha had a private booth by the bar, and they were sharing a bottle of after-dinner wine. 

They hadn't discussed the adventure Jared and Jensen had, nor the one Misha had, but at last the moment seemed right. They shared their stories, and despite the horror of Jensen and Jared's time in Supernatural Land, Jensen had Misha laughing the whole time.

"I have a newfound appreciation for grenade launchers, I can say that now," Jensen sipped his wine.

When it came time to hear all the details of what happened with Dean, Jensen didn't have any animosity towards any of it. Misha was relieved beyond words and, by the time he finished, had a newfound appreciation for Jensen.

The whole night seemed strange and amusing now that everything was back to normal. After half a bottle of wine, the two of them were smiling and laughing about the real Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

But Misha, who was getting tipsy, suddenly said something that gave Jensen pause.

"You know, it's funny, I never pictured Dean as a bottom." Misha chuckled. "I know you always say he's..." Misha trailed off, his expression faltering as the table went quiet.

Jensen looked lost in thought, and Misha looked apologetic.

"I uh…" Misha cleared his throat.

Jensen sighed, looking matter-of-factly at Misha. "I owe Jared a grand."

Misha stared at him, then smiled, "You… he bet you that…"

"If Sam and Dean were in our universe, he bet me… yeah." 

Jensen gave an apologetic smile, but Misha laughed. Jensen chuckled and took Misha's hand over the table.

"Well," Misha lowered his voice conspiratorially, "If you'd rather win that bet, 'Dean' can top tonight."

Jensen's eyes darkened mischievously, and he smirked at Misha. "Deal."


End file.
